


Minnesota

by sarajevo



Series: The Renegade Assembly [1]
Category: Cobra Starship, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Past Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, there's a lil ryan/jac and frank/joe if u squint but it's literally so minor i'm not gonna tag it, they basically do a lot of illegal shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-01 17:07:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6528598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarajevo/pseuds/sarajevo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When foster brothers Joe, Ryan, and Frank run away from a life of abuse two days after Frank's 18th birthday, they learn pretty quickly that relying on the kindness of strangers isn't easy when you can't trust anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was four p.m. on a Saturday afternoon. It was raining in the Twin Cities.

“This is dumb.” He said, knuckles white, clutched to the steering wheel. They weren’t moving. The car was in park. “This is all so fucking dumb.” 

Ryan watched him lazily. Ryan was tired, his fingers tracing rain drops down the window. He had been tired. He’ll still be tired tomorrow, and the days and months following.

“Better than being back there.” Ryan felt every word tug back in his throat. Talking was exhausting. They’d pulled over only a handful of times in the drive from California to Minnesota, and Ryan had probably driven the least. 

Joe stared straight ahead, hands still wrapped around the steering wheel. Ryan just wanted him to drive, but that would probably kill someone, and they didn’t need that on their plates. The cars sitting still front of them caused Ryan’s chest to tighten, his ribs closing in on his lungs. Maybe he would suffocate. Maybe there was something wrong with the car, and they were all going to die sitting in traffic miles away from where they were supposed to be. 

“Take the next exit, I gotta get some coffee.” The voice coming from the backseat was muffled, more exhausted than Ryan’s. Frank was nervous. Frank was the only legal adult in this car. Sure, Ryan only had a month or so till he was, too, but Joe still had more than half a year. 

The three had fantasized about running away for years. When they were thirteen, it was going to be sixteen. But before sixteen even came around, Frank got booted to a different foster home. Joe and Ryan were jealous and happy for him all at once, until they learned that Frank’s new foster parents were just as shitty as Joe and Ryan’s, if not worse. Joe and Ryan got beat up every once in awhile, that was normal. But according to Frank’s new foster parents, if Frank sported a black eye, it was because he got in a fight at school. If Frank shrugged away from someone’s touch, it was because he was rude. If Frank was losing weight, it was because he deliberately refused food. If Frank tried to hang himself in the closet for the third time that year, it was because he was was selfish. Just thinking about it pissed Ryan off to no end- but they were free now, he had to remember that. Frank was free. They were free. 

They’d spent months doing odd jobs to save up money. On Frank’s eighteenth birthday, he paid a little over a grand in cash for a beat up, red (with the exception of the blue passenger door), ‘99 Chevy Cavalier. Two days later, Ryan and Joe were ditching school at noon and getting in the back seat.

Now they were here. 

“Arden Hills!” Frank said with fake enthusiasm as he read from a pamphlet at the gas station they stopped at. “The perfect city for moms who don’t want to be more than ten minutes away from a Whole Foods but don’t want to have to see a homeless person.” 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Can you just get your coffee so we can go?” 

“Jeez, pushy.” Frank looked over the shelf out the window. “We left a window down for him. He’ll be fine.” 

“Every minute we spend in here is another reason for him to get pissed.” Ryan grabbed a candy bar. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not really feeling a Ultra Joe Flip-Out today.” 

“Yeah, I guess we should avoid that if he’s driving.” Frank walked over to the coffee area, filling a large cup. “We should probably stop for the night soon, anyway.” 

“In a hotel? Please say in a hotel.” Ryan said and walked over to the cashier, grabbing another candy bar from the display. Frank came over with his coffee and pulled out his wallet.

“Pack of 27s, please.” Frank said and handed the cashier some money. “Yeah, we could probably stay in a hotel tonight. Joe’d appreciate it, at least.” 

Ryan took the change the cashier handed back and grabbed both of the candy bars. “I would, too.”

Frank grabbed his coffee and pack of cigarettes, nodding at the cashier before following Ryan outside. “We’ll drive for another half hour or so and see if we can find a hotel. Deal?” 

Ryan nodded, opening the driver door and throwing a Snickers at Joe. “You’re not yourself when you’re hungry, Joe.” 

“Fuck off, Ryan.” Joe said and threw it back at him. “Just get in the fucking car.” 

“I’ll drive.” Ryan offered, along with the candy bar again. Joe looked up at him and sighed, grabbing it from him. 

“Gimme a smoke, Frank.” Joe said as he got out and slid into the back seat.

“I didn’t get smokes.” Frank said as he got into the passenger seat, a lit cigarette in his mouth. Joe whacked his shoulder hard, leaving his open hand there. 

“If you’re lying I’m going to die tomorrow.” Joe said. Frank glared back at him.

“Why do you always do that?” Frank said and put a cigarette and a lighter in his hand. Joe winked as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it. 

“Cause you’re a pathological liar and I’m not afraid of death.” Joe mumbled around the cigarette. 

“Stop being so depressing. Look,” Ryan looked back at him. “Frank said we can stay in a hotel tonight.” 

Joe handed the lighter back to Frank. “You’re kidding? With beds?” 

“No,” Frank fidgeted with the buttons on the radio even though nothing but static was coming in. “Just hay bales.” 

“Don’t think I won’t fucking hit you, Frank. I’ll do it.” Joe shook a fist at him. “But seriously, where?” 

“We’re gonna drive for a half hour and try to find a cheap one.” Ryan said. “But not so cheap that they don’t have breakfast.” 

“Agreed.” Frank said and rolled his window down a little as Ryan put the car in reverse and drove off. “But cheap enough that they’ll take cash.” 

Ryan swore he almost saw Joe smile when he looked at the rear-view mirror. The atmosphere in the car no longer felt like there was stones weighing down their muscles. They were going to sleep in actual beds, in their own room, and eat breakfast in the morning. 

“North Branch. Thirty-three miles.” Frank said, pointing at a sign on the side of the road. “Looks good to me.” 

In thirty-three miles, they were going to be over two-thousand miles away from anyone who could be looking for them. 

They were safe.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ryan! You better fucking be up!” 

Ryan snapped up in bed, expecting to see his foster dad stomping up the staircase, but there was sun pouring through the window next to his bed. Power Rangers was playing on TV. Joe had half a waffle in his mouth and Frank was drying his hair with a towel. 

“Morning gorgeous!” Frank was grinning wide. 

“Did you just yell?” Ryan asked. 

“...No.” Frank look puzzled. “TV must’ve been too loud. Way to go, Joe.” 

“I don’t give a shit.” Joe was now on a bowl of cereal. 

“We got breakfast for you.” Frank said and pointed at the bowl of cereal and waffles on the dresser. “They only had a little bit of Lucky Charms left and Joe let you have it.” 

“Yup. I’m a saint.” Joe said with his mouth full.

“A saint who stole a shit ton of muffins and oatmeal.” Frank threw the towel on the floor. 

“Hey, free is free.” Joe said and shrugged.

Ryan watched the two as he ate his breakfast. They seemed so comfortable in the new life, whereas Ryan felt constantly on edge. They took as long as they could to leave the sanctity of their hotel room, and Ryan felt a strange sort of numbness as Frank and Joe fought over where to go while Frank was looking at the map in the front seat. It was something akin to being homesick, but he knew he wasn’t homesick for where they’d came from. Maybe he was just homesick for where they would end up. 

“You okay, Ry?” Ryan looked away from the window and saw Frank looking back at him. “You’ve been pretty quiet all morning.” 

Ryan fought a shrug. In reality, he was okay. He was happy to be away from his foster parents and other foster siblings. He’d always felt closest to Joe and Frank, and he felt like he belonged wherever they were. But something made him want to stand still for awhile. 

“Jet-lagged, I guess.” Ryan pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up and leaned his head against the window. “Ready to find somewhere to stay put for awhile.” 

“The longer we stay put in one place the more of a chance we have of getting caught.” Joe said. 

“He’s right, though. We’re gonna have to stay somewhere eventually. Money’s gonna run out.” Frank said. 

“You’re the only one who could get a job without setting off any alarms.” Joe rolled his window down and reached over to the glove box, glaring at Frank when he swatted at Joe’s hand. 

“We’ll find something.” Frank said. “Just drive.” 

“I’ll put this fucking thing in park right here if you don’t let me smoke.” Joe said, taking the lighter and pack of cigarettes from the glove box.

“You’re buying the next pack, you’ve smoked most of this one.” Frank said, rolling down his own window and taking one before Joe put it back. 

“Would you quit nagging me all the time? Jesus, mom.” Joe said around his cigarette, flicking his ash out the window. 

“Someone has to keep some order around here.” Frank said, looking back at Ryan again. “Hey, don’t worry, okay? We’ll find somewhere to hang out for awhile.” 

“Help wanted.” Joe swung his arm out in front of Frank and pointed out the window at a sign on the side of the road. 

“That looks sketchy.” Ryan remarked, looking at it as they drove passed. 

“Sketchy might be right up our alley.” Joe said.

“We could check it out.” Frank suggested. “See what they’re looking for.” 

“Probably not two minors and a kidnapper.” Ryan said and smiled a little when Frank looked back at him. 

"Okay, even if I was a kidnapper, why would I choose you guys to kidnap?” Frank asked. 

“Hey, we have kidnapping potential.” Joe said. “I’m great at stealing, and Ryan’s…” Joe paused. “I dunno. Ryan’s pretty-looking.” 

Ryan scoffed. “Someone’s gotta be, cause you sure aren’t.” 

“Fuck you, Ryan. I’m beautiful.” Joe said, flicking him off in the rearview mirror. 

“We should go check that place out. Turn around.” Frank said, dropping his cigarette butt out the window. 

“You’re serious?” Ryan asked.

“You were the one bitching about staying somewhere.” Joe said, pulling over on the side of the highway and turning to look over his shoulder. “Can’t hurt to check.” 

“Exactly.” Frank said. “Who knows? Maybe it’s an oasis.” 

 

It was close.

The farmer’s name was Pete. He was an older guy, probably late fifties. 

“All I ask is that you guys tell me if you’re escaped convicts or something.” Pete said as he showed them around the farm, his golden retriever, Ally, sticking by his side. 

“We’re not.” Frank said. “Well, not exactly.” 

“I won’t turn you in, I just want to know what to look out for. You boys seem trustworthy enough, and as long as you work hard, I see no reason to blab.” Pete said with a laugh and stopped walking for a moment. 

“We’re runaways.” Joe said. “Came from a pretty shitty foster home. All got the shit beat out of us regularly, foster dads were drunks, that sort of thing.” 

Ryan followed behind Joe and Frank. It wasn’t that the guy seemed untrustworthy, but this all seemed a little too good to be true. 

“Jesus. I’m sorry to hear that.” Pete said. “Never understood that whole thing, I got three kids myself. They could be little shits sometimes when they were growing up, but I would’ve never laid a hand on em’.” Pete continued walking on. “Well, you’re safe here with me as far as I’m concerned. Like I told you when you came here, I can’t pay more than a couple bucks an hour, but you’re welcome to stay in the barn for as long as you’re working here. Kitchen, bathroom, and washing machine in the main house’ll be all yours to use, too.” 

“Your kids don’t live here?” Ryan asked.

“Nope. Two youngest are off at college. Oldest is off with a buddy trying to make it as a musician. That’s why I’m hiring.” Pete nodded at the cane he was using. “Besides the fact that I can’t walk more than a few feet without stopping anymore.” 

Ryan noticed Frank staring at him. Frank and Joe had been all too ready to take the job the second the guy said that he’d pay them, but Ryan was a little more hesitant, and Frank knew it. 

“We can’t be super picky.” Frank said and Ryan sighed, rubbing his neck. 

“I get that you’re hesitant,” Pete said and patted the top of Ally’s head. “But really, I would’ve hired escaped convicts. You boys are hardly that. Hell, if it means you’re getting away from a broken home, I’m more than happy to help. No one should have to grow up that way.” 

Pete was right, and this situation was perfect for them. Which is why Ryan didn’t think any of it could be real. 

“So?” Joe asked. “We staying?” 

“I’m all for it. Ryan?” Frank asked. Ryan crossed his arms and looked around the farm. It wasn’t bad, Ryan thought. They could stay here for awhile.

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I think we’re staying.”


	3. Chapter 3

Time at the farm seemed to go by in seconds. Days were spent working, nights were usually spent talking around the fire with Pete, mostly about his kids, and when Ryan finally turned eighteen in August, Frank felt comfortable letting him come into town with him to pick up groceries. It was oddly comforting going into a town that was completely unfamiliar and not recognizing anyone there. 

Once fall came around, Ryan was happy to find out that the barn didn’t get any colder. They each had a mattress, they had their own bathroom, and they were fed and warm. The recurring nightmares of waking up back at their foster parent’s house had finally eased up a bit for Ryan, but he wasn’t too sure they’d stopped for Joe. Joe had never really been a quiet guy, and he hadn’t really said much since a couple weeks after Ryan’s birthday.

“What the fuck are we going to do if they find me? I’ll be fucked. We’ll be fucked!” Ryan flinched when a bottle went flying passed his head and broke against the wall. 

“Fuck, Joe! Calm do-” Frank flinched when Joe kicked at another bottle sitting on the floor, that one also flying over and breaking against the wall. 

“I should’ve just fucking stayed. I had a year and a half. I should’ve just fucking stayed, why did you guys…” Joe was hyperventilating when Frank grabbed both of his arms. 

“Hey!” Frank yelled. Joe stared at him, panicked and wide-eyed. “We’re okay.” 

“We shouldn’t have, you know? We should’ve stayed. We’re gonna be so-” 

“Joe.” Frank brought his hands up to the sides of Joe’s head gently. “We’re going to be okay, okay? We’re safe here. We’ve been safe here. We’re going to be okay.” 

Later that night, Joe was asleep on Frank’s mattress when Ryan walked outside to find Frank smoking.

“We shouldn’t have let him drink.” Ryan mumbled, leaning up next to him against the wall. Frank laughed bitterly, kicking at the ground. 

“Did he do that still after I left?” Frank asked. 

“A lot more, actually. I never knew how to deal with it.” Ryan said, taking a cigarette when Frank offered him one. “Chad would fuck him up pretty bad after. I think it just made it worse.” 

“Obviously. Fuck.” Frank shook his head. “You know how shitty I felt-” 

“You had no choice, Frank.” Ryan said, taking Frank’s lighter from him and giving it back once he lit his cigarette. 

“Still. He always got it the worst. It killed me.” Frank swallowed. “He’s seventeen, you know? He’s just a kid. And he’s already so fucked up. I know I shouldn’t feel responsible.” 

“I do, too.” Ryan admitted. “He always stood up for me. I never did for him, I’d-” 

“Let’s stop talking about it.” Frank interrupted, looking up at Ryan. “We’re not there anymore. We only got four more months till we can all relax, you know? And we’ve got it good here. No one knows where we are. We’re making money. We’re doing fine.” Frank nodded, almost like he was trying to convince himself. “We’re doing great.” 

Now that Ryan thought about it, none of them had really said much since that night. 

Pete was a good cook, and he cooked a lot. The first morning they were there, Pete had them come up to the house for breakfast and Ryan was sure they’d have at least six more people joining them.

“Used to cooking for two growing boys and a girl who had to keep up with those growing boys.” Pete had said with a laugh. “Should’ve seen it when their mom was alive, she could eat for a couple guys, too. Then Pete and Hillary decided they were vegetarians, and hell, I just gave Andrew all the bacon and made twice the pancakes and eggs.” 

Ryan would’ve been annoyed with all this family talk in the past, but there was something wholesome about the way Pete talked about his family. Ryan was jealous of these kids that he didn’t even know, and he thought that if they ever came to visit he’d make sure he’d tell them how lucky they were. 

“Mornin’, kids.” Ryan snapped out of his thoughts. It was morning, but it was Saturday, and Pete usually gave them the day off. 

“Morning Pete, what’s up?” Frank sounded wide-awake and cheerful from the chair he was sitting in. He’d probably been up for a few hours already. 

“Well, I hate to wake you guys, but,” Pete opened the door a little more. “My son and his buddy kind of made an unexpected stop this morning, and it looks to be that they might be staying here for a couple days. Their old rooms are all storage and office space now, so, they’re gonna have to stay in here.”

Ryan was sitting up now, and Frank looked over at him. 

“They won’t bug you, they’ll probably be up at the house most of the time.” Pete continued.

“No, that’s okay.” Frank said after Ryan gave a slight nod. 

“We could come meet them.” Ryan suggested, and Frank almost looked shocked. 

“That’d be great!” Pete said with a smile. “Pete seems pretty anxious to meet you guys, anyway. We’ll all be up at the house when you guys are up and ready.” Pete waved a bit before backing out the door. 

“Two Pete’s. That’ll be fun to get used to.” Frank said, tossing Ryan a sweatshirt. 

“Maybe he goes by Jr. or something.” Ryan pulled it on, looking over at Joe on the mattress across from his. “We should let him sleep.” 

“No,” Joe mumbled, rolling over onto his back with a sigh. “I’ll come.” 

“The problem is,” A younger guy was sitting on the couch in the living room when Ryan, Joe, and Frank walked into the house. “Your son, he can’t sing worth shit.” 

“I know, I know.” Pete was sitting on his usual chair in the corner, Ally at his feet. “There they are!” 

The kid on the couch turned and looked up at them. Ryan didn’t think he could be more than thirteen. 

“Patrick, these are the guys I’ve been telling you so much about.” Pete said and Patrick stood quickly, waving his arms awkwardly. 

“Hi, uh.” Patrick adjusted his hat. “Like he said, I’m Patrick.” 

“What are you, twelve?” Joe muttered. Patrick laughed a little, swaying on his feet. 

“Close, sixteen. What are you, thirty?” Patrick asked sarcastically, and Ryan swore he thought he saw Joe smile a little. 

“Close, seventeen.” Joe stuck out his hand. “I’m Joe.” 

Patrick shook it and smiled wide. “So, you’re Ryan and Frank, then?” 

“I’m Ryan.” Frank said, pointing over Ryan’s shoulder. “He’s Frank.” 

“Nice!” Patrick said excitedly and Pete rolled his eyes a little. 

“So if your knees are so bad how did you move all that shit in our rooms?” Ryan’s eyes landed on a guy who was now standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. He looked a little like Pete, but his hair looked like it was dyed a little darker than natural. 

“That’s how my knees got so bad.” Pete said with a laugh. “Boys, this is my son, Pete.” 

“Not Jr. Since when do you go by Pete, dad?” Pete’s son was grinning. 

“It made me feel a little younger. I’ll just settle with Peter from now on to avoid confusion.” Pete shrugged at this and Peter gestured over to where Ryan, Joe, and Frank were standing.

“So, Joe,” Pete shook Joe’s hand when he offered it. “Frank,” Pete pointed at Frank, then nodded at Ryan. “And you must be Ryan.” 

Ryan’s stomach had felt like it was twisting since he saw the guy. He was charismatic, Ryan had to give him that. 

“No,” Patrick shook his head, pointing at Ryan. “That’s Frank.” 

“They’re fucking with you, Patrick.” Peter said. “Gotta stay on your toes with these guys.” 

“What?! I-” 

“He looks like a Ryan.” Pete interrupted Patrick and gestured at Ryan. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ryan was trying to sound serious, but he couldn’t help but grin a little when Pete did. 

“Nothing bad,” Pete straightened up a little. “But not necessarily anything good, either.” 

“Oh, leave him alone, Pete.” Peter said. “You’ll have to get along with these guys if you’re gonna be staying here.” 

Something in Pete’s eyes flickered, and Ryan looked away when he realized his eyes had been on Pete the whole time. Pete had definitely noticed. 

“Fine, fine.” Pete said, pushing Ryan’s shoulder a little. “I’ll be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the Peter and Pete confusion!


End file.
